


Touch

by whatagoodboy



Series: Catch Me Series [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Transgender, ftm!Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:24:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatagoodboy/pseuds/whatagoodboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine reach out and touch--each other. Plain and simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> (Part III of the Catch Me Series)  
> When I first wrote these boys together, I had only one scene in my mind to play out. The ideas kept coming....  
> I feel so connected to these moments, the ones where physicality and sexuality become shared between two people. 
> 
> Note: I use language to describe body parts here for Kurt that I feel he would be comfortable with--I am comfortable with them. I don't claim to speak as an authority on transgendered life or identities. I can only speak for my own journey as an FTM individual. No offence is intended to those whose experiences absolutely vary.
> 
> I'd be happy to talk about anything related to trans* identity at bespectacledcolfer.tumblr.com

Kurt rubs his right hand slowly up the flesh of his left forearm—feeling the drag of his slightly damp fingertips as they move toward the crook of his elbow. Closing his eyes, he tries to focus on the sensation. He _wants_  to feel so much—but he doesn’t, not really. There is only so much one can feel when they’re touching themselves. There’s no element of surprise, no blips of heat that catch you unaware. Kurt wants more. He wants to be swept away—out of himself. 

Frustrated, he flings himself backward into the pillows on Blaine’s bed. Brief thoughts of “ _crap, bedhead_ ” distract him—but not for long. He hears Blaine before he sees him. Katy Perry sung quietly behind the bathroom door—” _Fi_ _gures it’d be Katy”,_ he thinks, amused.

Blaine steps into the room, toweling his hair dry vigorously, stopping mid-stride seeing Kurt splayed out on the bed—no longer poised daintily at the end. His absent humming abruptly stops.

“Kurt? Um…you okay there? Did I take too long in the shower? You bored?” Blaine natters nervously. 

Kurt is perhaps the exact opposite of bored, and decides to go for broke and just say so.

“Blaine? I’m _so_ not bored. I’m…horny.”

He can feel the flush spread up his neck, and to his face as he completes the sentence-his voice small and timid after a pretty strong opening. Clearing his throat, he tries more, “Can you come here? _Be_ with me. Your parents are…well, wherever the hell they are—all I know is they won’t be home at any point in the near future, right?” Sitting up and pointedly leaving plenty of space on the bed for Blaine, he simply blinks at his boyfriend, questioning.

Blaine just blinks back, a bit stupidly—truth be told. His hazel eyes wide and comically exaggerated. “Kurt? I…are you…we haven’t…”

Kurt laughs quietly. “Blaine? Do you want me?”

“You _know_ I do, Kurt. We just…we haven’t _talked_ about doing anything today. We did the, um, masturbat…”

Interrupting, Kurt finishes for him, “We jerked off in front of each other, Blaine. And, it was amazing, right?”

Somehow, Blaine finds a way to break the frozen position he’s been stuck in, and he flings his towel to the floor and hurls himself across the room and onto the bed, next to Kurt. “Yeah, it was far beyond amazing, actually. It was—let me show you.” Placing his hands on Kurt’s face lovingly, but with a possessive intensity—he captures Kurt’s mouth with his, darting a hot tongue into the open space waiting for him. Kurt sucks his tongue deeply and roughly, causing his heart to catch in his throat—his breath shorten.

They push and pull with their lips—one biting, the other licking, heat and wetness passed back and forth. Kurt’s hands wind around the nape of Blaine’s neck, tugging on the short, damp, curly hair—unrestrained by gel and propriety. Kurt pulls away first, Blaine is left gasping like a fish—mouth caught agape, his lips moving but emitting no sound.

“Blaine. I want to _feel._  I want to _feel_ you. I want to touch you—you to touch me. Can we do that? Just…touch and not talk about how and what and where? Let’s just…okay?” Looking at Blaine silently, he scrutinizes the other boy’s face for signs of  assent—praying to see an expression of acceptance-not fear there.

Blaine swallows, tongue thick with words unsaid—and hopes that his eyes can covey what he’s feeling, because he sure as hell can’t rely on his voice to to the job. Carefully, he gathers Kurt to him in an embrace that would, in any other circumstance seem awkward, but at this moment? All of the too-tight, desperate, clutching is appropriate. 

Kurt turns his head, partially to regain a position he can actually breathe in—and partly to nestle his face just under Blaine’s ear, inhaling deeply, intoxicated by the soft scent he finds there. Blaine. Not soaps or colognes, but underneath those things—the smell that belongs to Blaine alone. 

Clothing begins to be shed. There’s no rhythm to it, it’s not certain who takes off what, or when. It all seems to happen in a haze—there are just two people together-yearning for more , for _closer_ and _feel_ and _touch._

Blaine has a moment where he thinks he’s living one of his dreams-- where everything feels hot and bright and just-so-close-to-too-much, but is delicious and _right_  at the same time. When their hands breach enough layers that flesh touches flesh? Hands meeting planes and expanses of skin that were previously left only to imagination—late night wonderings, bitten lips, and pulses of solitary desire brought to light? Both boys want to talk, to voice their wonder. But, awe and sensation leave them mute.

Kurt feels his heart thump a staccato beat as Blaine’s fingers roam slowly down his chest. It’s a moment he catches in his minds eye—taking a mental snapshot he’s sure he won’t forget. Warm and strong—confident, touches to a place he’d never thought he’d allow access to. 

Blaine gently cups his hands—capturing the breasts that Kurt curses, murmuring words that aren’t quite words as he presses a kiss to Kurt’s collarbone. Pressure that should make Kurt panic and cover up, doesn’t. Instead, Kurt unclenches his fists, wondering just when they’d gotten that way—and places his own palms on Blaine’s chest. There’s not a huge difference in the two, really. Blaine is hairy—and with a frission of pleasure, Kurt realises he really, really, likes that. But, it’s strength, vulnerability, trust that he feels in their skin. Pinching a crimson, hardened nipple softly, he waits to see Blaine’s response.

A rough groan reaching his ears, he presses forward boldly. They’ve watched each other do such intimate things, but until this moment-have never just reached out—and fully fallen into the physical. It’s a solitary bead of sweat sliding down Blaine’s cheek that finally breaks through the dam of restraint Kurt has built around himself. That tiny detail smashing virtual walls with astonishing ease.

Kurt gently laps at the droplet, shivering at the salty tang on his tongue. _It tastes like tears_ , he thinks. Blaine inhales sharply as Kurt slides his mouth to Blaine’s ear and whispers one word into it.

“Please.”

Please. Such a simple word with myriad meanings. Blue eyes with a mosaic of colour flaring in them beseech Blaine. Please. Kurt can’t say more. He can only plead, wide-eyed, lashes fluttering with the beating of his heart. 

Warmth flaring through his limbs, Blaine lowers his hands to Kurt’s waist, and slides his fingers softly along the band of Kurt’s briefs. _This is it, the moment_ , a quiet voice announces in his head. Closing his eyes, he gently tugs at the cloth and pulls at it—drawing the fabric down downy thighs. Blaine needs a moment before he can look, take in the sight of his boyfriend so naked, so raw. 

He’s imagined this-his hands roaming freely ,being allowed to soak up _everything_ Kurt is, body and soul. It feels so frightening and so easy--at the same time. Kurt wants him to touch--wants him to witness him laid bare and wanting. Kurt falls back into the pillows, knees spread apart, muscles in his thighs twitching slightly. As Blaine moves his head closer, downward, toward Kurt's abdomen, absurd memories of his first riding lesson flood his mind. "You need to gentle the animal, son" his instructor had said. "Place your hand on him, speak softly--let him get acquainted with your touch, He needs to know he's safe, that you will treat him well."

Safe. He wants that for Kurt--for himself. Placing a hand on Kurt's side, gently, he looks up into Kurt's eyes and draws one of Kurt's hands to his chest. Gentling each other. Soft strokes keep him anchored--until Kurt increases the pressure of his fingers, curling them around his chest hair, fingernails rasping, pulling gently. White-hot licks of desire cascade like a ridiculous waterfall down Blaine's spine--his cock, which he's been woefully ignoring, filling with blood, tingling and insistent.

Kurt doesn't need to be settled, he thinks. He needs to be anything but settled. Maybe the safest place for the both of them right now is joining each other as they fly apart? Can there be safety in the unknown? the wild? A soft moan gives him his answer. Kurt, pupils so wide--glances down at him, and nods. A simple nod. Blaine feels hesistancy flee with that nod. With a lazy slide, he nuzzles his cheek to one of Kurt's thighs. He aches to drag his tongue over the warm skin there--and, with a dizzying wave of desire--he realises that he simply _can._ Groaning, he makes an experimental swipe, mouth watering. He can _smell_ Kurt. It's a blend of spice and musk and something so deeply personal--it's heady and _Kurt_ and _ohgodyyes._

Blaine gazes at Kurt's cock. His cock. It's small, yes...but similar to his. The tip is a blushing, furious, red--peeking out from a hood of dusky pink. Perhaps he imagines it--but Blaine would be hard-pressed to not swear the nub twitches and lengthens as he considers it. Moving both of his hands to Kurt's hips, he gently nudges his head sideways--a silent request that Kurt open his legs for him. He feels Kurt's breath hitch, but his legs spread--welcoming whatever comes next.

Saliva pools in Blaine's mouth as he ducks his head forward, feeling a slight prickle of pubic hair on his cheek. _So personal, this is so....,_ he thinks. The moment his tongue makes contact with the head of Kurt's dick, something shatters inside of him. The careful reserve he tries so hard to maintain (and so often fails at) flickering like confetti caught in a breeze as it falls away. There's a taste he's never had in his mouth, and it is glorious. 

Stealing the briefest of moments to savour it, he notices Kurt's face--his eyes are closed, his chestnut hair wild, stray locks creating shadows on his flushed skin. Returning his mouth to Kurt's cock, _my Kurt's cock_ , he licks and sucks--oh-so-gently at first, but increasing the suction as quiet pants and gentle humming spur him on. Kurt's so hard on his tongue--wetness seeping from his entrance. Blaine feels the slick fluid on his chin, and can't imagine anything feeling more erotic--more intimate. _I did that. Kurt let me do that._

Words seem impossible to Blaine. How can _this_ be described or articulated? For a time, the only sounds in the room are delightful gasps and delicious, dirty, sexual noises. Blaine pulls off of Kurt's cock with a pop, and imagines that that sound alone will forever be the most pornographic he'll ever hear--and he will treasure it. He can't ignore his own cock for one more second--it's aching, straining, weeping hotly into his underwear. With an inelegant shove, he thrusts a hand into his briefs, gasping as his fist clenches around himself. 

Kurt quickly pulls his limbs together on the bed, and swoops in to kiss Blaine passionately. There's a new desperation to this kiss-it's needy, intense, and speaks volumes yet unread. Kurt reaches down to Blaine's stroking fist, and stops him. With a gentle, "tsk" he pulls Blaine's hand away, and replaces it with one of his own. With surprising, jolting, strength, he firmly pushes Blaine backwards, pressing him flat against the mattress. Making short work of removing Blaine's underwear, tossing it to the floor with an uncharateristic lack of care--Kurt lightly curls his fingers around Blaine's cock, barely restraining himself from shouting aloud as the heated velvet texture of it slams into his scrambled brain.

Blaine grunts, a broken, gutteral, tone as Kurt begins to move his hand. Blaine's mind races with half-formed thoughts, fragments of bewildering wonder-" _Oh, not my hand. Oh God. It's tight and different and I can't...I won't...how...more...hot...beautiful...come..."_

Kurt delights in an entirely different way in his head. " _This is Blaine. All of Blaine. Sex and heat and us. I want him like this--he wants me like this."_ He's not sure exactly how to move his hand, if there is some rhythym he should know instinctively to bring Blaine relief--he only knows what feels best to him. So, he pulls and squeezes--and shivers when he feels precome seep from the head of Blane's cock,fighting the urge to thrust his fingers into his mouth to suck the wonderous mess from them. Stretching himself out along Blaine's body, he finds an angle that allows him to bring his free hand to his own cock. He can't _not_  touch for another minute--Blaine's mouth had brought him so close to coming, and the electric, heavy throb in his crotch demands attention.

" _He's so, so, beautiful",_ Kurt muses as he takes in the images of his boyfriend, head lolled back, eyes squeezed shut--teeth catching full lips with abandon. Blaine's hands clench and un-clench--clasping the duvet desperately. With a sigh, Kurt takes one of them and places it to his cock, letting his warm hand linger over Blaine's--pressing it urgently downward. Blaine deftly copies Kurt's movements--stroking and rubbing faster and faster.

They don't last long--everything is intense, emotion and thought utterly eclipsed by sheer feeling. Sensation. 

Blaine feels his orgasm rising like a stinging slap to the face, Kurt feels his approach like a wary animal--slow and steady. As they rise to the apex of intensity--that jawdropping moment that whisks reality away absolutely--Kurt speaks.

"Blaine, open your eyes."

Blaine's eyes fly open, pupils dilated--gold and amber flecks sparking like embers of a newly-lit fire.

Together, Kurt and Blaine come, eyes locked upon one another, shaking and moaning as they fall--anchored to each other by love, trust, and blissful touch.

 

 

 


End file.
